Page 3

Vexarionaxnoryndrik

“ V exarionaxnoryndrik, it’s come to the attention of the collective mind that you’ve been shirking the duties you were assigned when Unit A was opened two and a half years ago.

It hasn’t gone unnoticed that when you’re required to share your memories of the previous months, there are pockets of memories you’ve kept restricted from the rest of us.

We’ve allowed you to retain some of your secrets because there was no danger to Unit A or the experiments we set out to conduct.

However, with the secrecy and now your refusal to answer our summons, I’m required to alert you to a total collection of your mind if you do not comply with me now. ”

I keep my thoughts calm. The mental fortitudes I’ve set up over the years lock in place around all of my thoughts of Simone and my plans of joining her.

If the collective mind wishes to know everything, then they will.

I can at least hold out until I’m actually forced into revealing all of myself and leaving my mind open for my memories to be torn bit by bit.

I’m almost certain they’re bluffing. It takes major transgressions for the collective mind to agree to open a mind to reveal everything. In fact, I can think of only once in my lifetime that a vote has been cast, and that was for crimes much worse than mine.

“Vexarionaxnoryndrik, are you listening?” Amarithlumonarion is the elder speaking in my mind right now. He’s the one in charge of Unit A and this portion of Earth.

The elders are mostly the same, only differing in some of their values since different subsections of the collective vote on them.

Elders are figureheads voted on by the collective mind every year to act as the ones who correspond with the Creator.

They decide which planets we help, which Hands we offer our services to if their planets need assistance, and they keep the rest of us in line.

I never much cared that I was only one piece of a collective whole.

When it’s how you grow up, knowing a piece of yourself will always be available to everyone else, you get used to it.

I didn’t care about secrets or privacy until I met Simone.

That’s when I knew I needed to carve out a piece of my mind and keep it safe and secure from the others.

“I’m listening,” I respond in my mind as I go over the latest lab results from the remaining women in Unit A12. It’s still my job to ensure they’re all fit to travel to their new home.

I was reprimanded after allowing Nia, A12-18, to move to the new planet much ahead of schedule and after being ruled infertile.

I made a promise to Simone that I’d keep her friends safe, though, and the only place Nia would be safe was on planet 87.

39.49. I’m sure the inhabitants have another name for it, but the Hands are more used to numbering everything.

Even me. I’m technically Hand 23.34.12.15. 48.01.

However, the latest Creator, a Hand who took on the role twenty-eight years ago—well, human years—decided we all needed names of our own. Our species needs to evolve with each new Creator, and it seems that Creator 562 decided we were to have our own names.

“Good, then explain to us what has been happening in the missing pockets of memories,” Amarithlumonarion says, his tone coming across more tired than upset as he speaks to me.

He wouldn’t be the first elder to get tired of the monotony of being an elder. Maybe he’s one who actually cares about the other Hands. Some of the elders care more about having their minds have more sway than those of us who are working Hands.

“I don’t feel as though the missing pieces of my memory have any impact on the work I’m currently conducting for the collective and the Creator.” I’ve rehearsed saying the words so many times that they slide through my mind like silk and into the collective as though they’re not total lies.

“That’s for the elders to decide at this point, Vexarionaxnoryndrik,” Amarithlumonarion says, trying and failing to sound more stern.

He really must not have wanted to be the one to do the interrogation today.

There are so many other important jobs he could be doing.

Instead, he’s been assigned to speak with me.

“If you could tell me what you think I did, I’m sure I could clear up any confusion.” I roll my eyes as I say it but keep a respectful tone in my thoughts.

I have more important things to do right now, like going over these lab results.

I need to make sure that every human female in Unit A12 is ready to be transported to the new tribe as quickly as possible.

Once I’m sure they can all be transported, I’ll be sending more humans through.

Only volunteers who know what they’re volunteering for and want to move to the other planet.

I’ll send orphaned younger females as well, but I’ve been reassured by the humans currently on planet 87.

39.49 that they’ll make sure the young are taken care of.

There’s a long pause from Amarithlumonarion, and for a moment, I think maybe he’s bored and doesn’t want to deal with me today.

I’ll need to get approval from the collective mind soon, but I’m hoping to put it off as long as possible.

Preferably, as soon as I’ve given the tribe on planet 87.

39.49 enough time to prepare homes for the new humans.

If I tell the collective that it’s possible to rid ourselves of the burden of having to help this primitive Earth species, there’s a good chance they’ll listen to me. They’ll want to streamline things, though.

Right now, the biggest thing working in my favor is that this plan should work within ten years.

That’ll be ten years faster than the proposals from other units located all over Earth.

They’re sending the humans in their units to other planets.

Their plans are all said to be taking almost double how long mine will.

When I tell Amarithlumonarion about my plan, he should be more than willing to follow it, but I need to make sure everything goes right.

As soon as I think that, a soft humming sounds in my ears, and Amarithlumonarion is standing in my lab, looking irritated that he had to make a trip to this insignificant little planet. Not that it takes much effort on his part, but most don’t enjoy having to deal with primitive species.

Humans could’ve reached stage three if they’d worked together just a little bit more instead of fighting so often. It’s the main part of what keeps primitive species primitive. If a species can’t get past the prejudices of its own kind, how could it ever thrive in a universe filled with others?

“You have thirty Earth minutes to tell me what you’ve been hiding.

If I deem it worthy of keeping secret, then I will.

” Amarithlumonarion looks around my lab as though he was expecting it to be more than what it is.

I’m sure he’s disappointed he didn’t find me in the middle of illegal activities so he could set up a punishment and be done with it.

“If I’ve gone through the trouble of hiding it for this long, why would I tell you?” I ask, not liking that I’ve already had to admit that there is something, or rather someone, that I’ve been hiding from the collective’s mind this entire time.

“We all have secrets, but it took being here on Earth before you started keeping any.” His tone softens as he watches me.

I’m still in my human skin because I’m used to wearing it most of the day since I’m around the humans so often.

The skin isn’t ideal for humans. Some of them still have a prey part of their mind that tells them I’m wrong, I am other, and they fear it.

It’s better to look slightly different than for them to see the real me and be unable to comprehend me at all.

Only two humans have seen me like that, and only Simone has seen me in my true form for an extended period of time.

I’ve also grown accustomed to how I look with the skin on. On my first day here, I stole the appearance of a doctor on a poster in one of the advertisements in the stadium. I didn’t think it’d end up being my permanent appearance, but now I don’t know what other form I would take.

“Does your secret have anything to do with finding a fated?” Amarithlumonarion asks me.

It takes everything in me to keep my features schooled into neutrality. I work to keep my thoughts calm and empty in the part of my mind I don’t keep locked down. He either sees through my calm facade or wishes to say something to me in the hopes I crack. Either way, he continues.

“None of this is being shared. You can see that when you open your mind to the collective. This conversation will remain among my own private thoughts unless it will cause harm to the collective. My job is to protect the whole, not the individual. If you aren’t a threat, you’ve nothing to fear from me. ”

I do open my mind to the collective, and I cycle through as many memories as I can of the elder standing in front of me.

I follow threads of memories to see what judgments he’s made, what punishments he’s doled out, and how he voted when it came to killing half of this planet’s population.

The memory is strong since it’s still one of the more recent major decisions we’ve had to make.

It’s only when I see the memories of him arguing with the others not to kill half of this planet that I decide to trust him. Only two of the twenty elders voted against the killings. It was the first vote that made me question if what we do is right.

“Give me ten years, and I can make this unit obsolete,” I say, not wanting to reveal more of my plan than that until I get a gauge on how he feels about it.

“Ten years?” he asks with a sound that makes me think he doesn’t believe me at all.